


Headaches and Over-steeped Tea

by knightlysoulsnatcher



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Hurt and comfort, M/M, Mutual Pining, People are sick but not gross sick, Pining, ererisecretsanta2k17
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 09:34:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13143900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knightlysoulsnatcher/pseuds/knightlysoulsnatcher
Summary: Levi would agree that Eren's the restless one, but not for the same reasons. It’s not because Eren’s loud voice is always easy to pick out in a crowd, the kind of voice that skirts the edges of blurred conversations, occasionally half-heard distinctly, always delightfully tinged with absurd anger. It’s not because his hands are always either tucked tight around his textbooks or his waist, or the way his hands wave wildly, the emotion in his gestures rendering them bizarrely natural, the way his fingers curl around nothing. Eren’s restless energy manifests in the way his eyes follow Levi hungrily, expectantly. The way Levi’s felt him stare at his lips.





	Headaches and Over-steeped Tea

**Author's Note:**

> this is for jumin-trash in the #ererisecretsanta2k17 event! hope you enjoy this, and i hope that you (and everyone reading this) has a good day!

When the first bell for class disrupts the familiar hum of his classmate’s conversations, Levi sighs and pushes away from the wall next to his locker, pocketing his phone and grabbing his textbooks.

 

It isn’t that today is any worse than other days, or that he has anything important occurring in any of his classes. That would be a welcome problem; it’s his last semester as a junior, and he’s already overwhelmed with the need for _something_. It’s not college, not a job or anything readily approved; he has plans. Plans he’s happy with, plans that he chose and has the means to follow. He doesn’t know what it is, this incessant reminder that there’s something more he should be doing.

 

He’s tired. He’s so, so tired. It’s not that he doesn’t live in the present, or have plans for the future, or know that high school is a boring but necessary step. He’s better than he has been, not quite properly depressed, managing his anxiety fine. Restless, his mother calls it with soft definitiveness.

 

Levi snorts as he walks away, slamming the door behind him. Restless is _not_ the appropriate word for himself, in his opinion.

 

Of course, that’s only because his mother doesn’t know much about Eren Jaeger, beyond his name. Mikasa hardly mentions him to Levi when she visits, but he’s watched her carefully monitor and protect Eren’s enthusiasm for at least three years now. It’s both surprising and not that she hardly speaks of him around Levi or Aunt Kuchel; however, surely if his mother met Eren, she’d understand what restlessness really is.

 

Still, she firmly insists she’s right. Mikasa—the few times she’s heard the accusation—neither confirms nor denies it. Never really reacts, almost as though she’s preserving Eren for herself, though on occasion she does share a knowing look with Levi. He’s waiting for the day she snaps and reminds them that Eren has a monopoly on descriptors like restless, energetic, fierce.

 

Levi would agree, but not for the same reasons. It’s not because Eren’s loud voice is always easy to pick out in a crowd, the kind of voice that skirts the edges of blurred conversations, occasionally half-heard distinctly, always delightfully tinged with absurd anger. It’s not because his hands are always either tucked tight around his textbooks or his waist, or the way his hands wave wildly, the emotion in his gestures rendering them bizarrely natural, the way his fingers curl around nothing. Eren’s restless energy manifests in the way his eyes follow Levi hungrily, expectantly. The way Levi’s felt him stare at his lips. The way he looks up to Levi, and Farlan, and Erwin, and Hanji, and—pretty much everyone in their mutual friend group that’s older than him. Eren’s fierce and friendly and flirty and owns his emotional nature, but the only things he’s deeply grounded in are himself, Armin, and Mikasa.

 

Levi’s not really sure if there are words for himself that fit properly; he knows he wants more from life, but it’s less an uncontrollable, unbearable awareness and more a persistent reminder that he must push himself forward and not look back. Ever. If there are proper labels for him (and sure, there probably is, somewhere, because language isn’t that restricted, but Levi’s allowed some measure of melodrama in his dull life), they’re nowhere near him, and nowhere near as hipster or dramatically directionless as “restless.”

 

The first four classes of the day trickle by like spilled honey. Lunch and the boring discomfort of entering the cafeteria and waiting in line, feeling as though everyone sitting is staring at him, is sweetened by the presence of familiar faces—and the lack of attention from Eren. Farlan strides in the caf shortly after Levi, smoothly standing in line with him despite the cluster of girls behind them.

 

“Erwin’s in a mood today,” Farlan comments idly as he stares at Levi’s shoulders. Years of friendship grants Levi the knowledge that Farlan’s tempted to stick his elbows up and lean on Levi, but they both know he won’t take that well. Not in public, anyways.

 

Farlan smirks at him to fill the void, and Levi rolls his eyes.

 

“Where’s Is? She was supposed to stop by this morning.”

 

Farlan’s forehead scrunches in confusion. “Didn’t she text you? Her and Eren have the flu.”

 

Levi winces in sympathy. It’s not the worst time to be sick; it’s only near the end of January, but it’ll still suck for homework. “Shit,” Levi says, “she’s got that essay on _Moby Dick_ , doesn’t she?”

 

“Think so. Clifton won’t make an exception, probably.”

 

“Doubtful.”

 

The line’s inched forward until Levi’s next. It’s a better food day than normal, and Levi is carefully courteous to the workers, however much the food remains lackluster. He pays and walks as quickly as possible without looking hurried to their usual table. Already mostly full of their mutual friends, Levi sits down and immerses himself in comfortable company and the luxury of acceptable silence.

 

Farlan drops beside him moments later, and the general conversation shifts to something that happened in Hanji’s third hour. Levi wonders whether it matters that nearly none of them share one or two classes with each other. One of his online friends has classes with the same people every day; would lunch be the same, or more boring, or more interesting if everyone knew who—

 

“Is was asking if anyone’d be able to bring her the stuff she needs for homework after school,” Farlan comments as he scrolls through tumblr on his phone.

 

Erwin shakes his head, says something about swim practice. Hanji offers, but everyone knows that if they go, Levi will accompany them. Alone, and Levi’s “too touchy,” avoiding germs and lacking a “compassionate bedside manner.” Hanji alone shares the same criticism, verbatim, for the opposite reasons. In their large circle of friends, when they’re not the sick ones, they usually do a decent job of getting the necessary materials in a timely fashion, so long as they’re together.

 

No one ever says it’s because, despite their imperfect personalities, Hanji and Levi offer perhaps the most entertaining visits—and they’re guaranteed a cleaner atmosphere after Levi leaves.

 

Levi pays attention to Hanji as they begin discussing the recent increase in flu-stricken students. It’s disgusting, but they’re difficult to stop once they’ve started. They’re a headache, but they mean well.

 

Isobel deserves decent company, if only for a short reprieve from binge-watching Netflix while sick. Levi’ll make sure she gets that.

 

“We’ll make it quick,” Levi says, interrupting once Hanji begins guessing who’ll get sick next.

 

Hanji grins at him.

 

No one mentions that Levi’s obligated to attend the same swim practice as Erwin.

 

~~~

 

The following three classes are a collection of Levi’s thoughts straying to Isobel—and, subsequently, Eren—sick. Him, visiting with their work. Checking to make sure they’re alright. Wondering if Eren’s voice will sound a little different, wondering if that will be pleasant or disgusting. Wondering if Mikasa will hover even with Levi around, and whether it’ll impact Eren’s staring. He has no frame of reference for a sick Eren, and he’s slightly curious. Still, it’s stupid shit, imagining alterations in his attitude, and Levi shuts it down as quickly as it starts.

 

The margins of his notes are, as always, riddled with lines of notebook paper scribbled in. He’s not one for unnecessary drawings, but he enjoys scribbling until the margins are completely covered. The pencil marks on his hands that inevitably follow are some of the few things he feels a little bad about washing away.

 

The end of the school day slams into Levi. He is walking with Hanji in the parking lot before he realizes it, giving them a ride to Isobel’s, then to their apartment before he’ll head home. This morning, Hanji got a ride with Farlan, and Levi almost missed the whirlwind chatter he’s inadvertently acclimated to.

 

“Levi, if I’m super careful, can I eat—”

 

“No.” He doesn’t even look at them as he unlocks his car, shoves his backpack and Isobel’s books in the back, and climbs in the driver’s seat. Hanji follows suit, grumbling for barely a second before falling unusually quiet.

 

“You have Eren’s stuff?” Levi asks when the silence becomes disquieting.

 

“Yeah,” Hanji replies, interpreting Levi’s question wrong. “I guess Armin and Mikasa didn’t want to take it themselves?”

 

Levi blinks. He hadn’t seen either of them today, but that’s not entirely unusual. Armin might not be able to visit Eren, but Mikasa? Levi has a terrible feeling about this; he doesn’t believe for a second that Mikasa wouldn’t deliver his work. That Hanji, of all people, carried his textbooks to Levi’s truck tells him there’s something he’s missing.

 

His hands shake against the steering wheel. Not enough for Hanji to notice, even with their distracted babbling about the loss of Armin for an important experiment negatively impacting their day.

 

When they arrive at Isobel’s house, Hanji and Levi turn to each other and blurt “Don’t freak out at them too much” simultaneously, Hanji’s statement ending with a short chuckle and an affectionate hand patting his head.

 

He lets them have their fun for exactly three head pats before pulling away and scoffing at them. They bump his shoulder with theirs affectionately, and it’s difficult for Levi to fully suppress his smile.

 

Isobel greets them just as Levi and Hanji reach the front door. She’s wrapped in a blanket, her favorite pajama bottoms peeking out from where the blanket opens.

 

“Big Bro!” Her voice lacks the same familiar exuberance; however, the smile on her face is huge, even as her eyes are glassy and nose is pink.

 

“Hey,” Levi replies at the same time as Eren’s voice, quieted somewhat by distance if not by sickness, interrupts with “Yeah?”

 

Levi’s heart races as Hanji steps forward. “Careful not to get too close to short-stack. You know how he is; cough on him if you want him to get out.”

 

They follow Isobel inside, Levi quietly closing the door behind them.

 

“I was talking to Levi,” Isobel explains to Eren as the three of them enter the living room, where a reality show is paused. Blankets and pillows litter the room, one of the messiest sick lay-ins Levi’s seen since Hanji’s pneumonia freshman year.

 

“How are you guys feeling?” Hanji’s questions stop at that. The lack of enthusiasm perturbs Levi, and he shifts his gaze away from them.

 

And. He meets Eren’s gaze. Eren’s been staring at him, apparently. Levi shoves his hands in his jeans pockets and stares at him as naturally as possible. Hoping he doesn’t give anything away; it’s impossible not to worry, even now, after hesitantly passing into friendship territory over the years. Eren’s eyes, beautiful and unguarded, never stop being a little intimidating when flicking along his skin, stopping to peer into his own.

 

Levi’s well aware of the way his features always make him look bored and irritated. Usually, it’s comforting. His default isn’t something that gathers too much attention; if anything, if he holds anyone’s gaze longer simply because he likes not being the first to look away.

 

This is the only thing that keeps him able to return Eren’s attention. Until he coughs, and Levi’s nose crinkles in disgust.

 

“You didn’t miss much,” Hanji’s saying as they sit down beside Isobel, setting Eren’s textbooks in his direction.

 

Levi places Isobel’s on a side table like a respectful person.

 

Eren’s too quiet, aside from his coughing, merely watching as Levi hovers beside Isobel, listening to her laugh at Hanji’s stories.

 

They’ve agreed to only visit for a half an hour, yet Levi’s already regretting giving them too much time. His heart races uncomfortably, hands too warm, and he keeps wiggling his toes in his shoes, hoping to channel the urge to fidget into subtle movements.

 

Not five minutes pass before he quietly exits, enters the kitchen and begins tidying up. There’s not a huge mess, unsurprisingly, but it’s still not quite clean enough. Isobel and Eren know him well enough to know that he prefers tidy settings, and that out of all of their mutual friends and acquaintances it’s Eren that maintains the best cleaning habits, but he’s thankful nonetheless that they provided an opportunity for him to clean.

 

Despite Eren’s disquieting staring, this visit adheres to familiar routines; Hanji keeps the sick company while Levi cleans and makes them food.

 

Wiping down the countertops after putting boxes of snacks and cereal away grounds him in the present, keeps his thoughts from wandering terribly far and steadies his heartbeat.

 

He breathes slow and steady, centered in the silence. This makes the sound of footsteps easily noticeable and gives Levi seconds to prepare before Eren wanders in and sits at one of the stools next to the kitchen’s island.

 

“I tried to keep it clean, but we had a late breakfast a little while ago,” Eren needlessly explains after a beat of silence. His voice isn’t much altered, only a little raspy.

 

Levi hums in response, grabbing the cheese from their fridge, bread and butter from the pantry, and begins making grilled cheese. He’s barely started buttering the bread, waiting for the stovetop to heat, when Eren speaks again.

 

“Anything interesting happen today?”

 

He sounds as awkward as Levi feels, and it makes his mouth horrifically dry. “Wasn’t any different from any other Wednesday, kid,” he replies, tacking on the nickname because if Eren’s going to stare at him like he’s thirty-seven and got his life impressively together, Levi’s going to exaggerate the age difference accordingly.

 

Predictably, Eren’s face caves in on itself in anger. “I’m barely younger than you, and I’m taller. Don’t call me a kid.”

 

Levi’s deadpan stare makes Eren wilt slightly. Neither of them says a word as Levi turns around and continues making grilled cheese the way Isobel loves. When he’s finished, he walks past Eren and delivers it to her, allowing himself a small smile as he pats her head affectionately.

 

“Thanks,” she mutters between bites, grinning widely up at him.

 

Levi nods and returns to the kitchen. Eren’s elbows are propped up on the counter, staring at the sink. He flinches when Eren coughs into the crook of his elbow, grateful at least that he didn’t spew his germs everywhere.

 

It sounds horrible. There’s nothing Levi can do about it except begin making a grilled cheese, now the way Eren likes them. Cheddar and swiss, too much butter. Levi always makes sure he puts more butter on Eren’s than anyone else’s; it’s not because he cares about Eren. It’s just that he’s the one that likes the most butter.

 

“Did you take medicine?” Levi asks as he shoves a plate of grilled cheese at Eren.

 

Levi realizes that, for some reason, Eren hadn’t expected it. “Yeah—what about Hanji?”

 

He raises an eyebrow, scowls. “What about them?”

 

“Aren’t you gonna make them some?”

 

“Do I look finished to you?”

 

“No.”

 

“Are they sick?”

 

“No.”

 

“Are you sick?”

 

“… Yes?”

 

Levi directs his most unimpressed look at Eren. “Doesn’t that answer your question, shithead?”

 

“You didn’t have to though. I can feed myself.” Eren then shoves the sandwich in his mouth, devouring the first triangle in two minutes. The next he’s only slightly slower with, and the anger crinkling his face seems to dissipate by the time he’s finished.

 

“That’s not the point,” Levi mutters as he turns around and begins Hanji’s. Neither of them say anything as he makes their sandwich, though his heartbeat is loud and fast in his ears, and he curses Eren’s stubbornness.

 

“Then what’s the point?” Eren’s waited until Levi’s turned around, plate in hand, ready to take it to the living room. His eyes are locked on Levi’s, and Levi detests the mixture of emotions in his voice, the way he leans forward and frowns.

 

Levi ignores him, striding past the island and entering the living room. He hands Hanji the grilled cheese and sits beside Isobel. She leans against him, and he allows the contact, resting his head against hers. They’re both watching a workplace sitcom, only breaking the silence with comments on the overly enthusiastic boss or laughter.

 

Isobel’s weight against him is grounding; he hopes the food helped her feel a little better. Sitting with them as the sun shines through the windows and Eren’s cat lazily alternates between watching them and licking themselves is achingly soothing. For a time, Levi forgets himself, forgets the way Eren makes his fingertips ache and the stretch of classes wears his patience thin.

 

They sit like this for half an episode, Levi waiting till the credits roll to stand and take their plates to the kitchen. He tosses another small smile over his shoulder at Isobel, who grins widely at him.

 

Eren’s putting the cheese away when Levi returns to the kitchen to wash the pan and plates. Eren, having cleaned up the rest of the area, stands beside him with a cloth in hand. Wordlessly, Levi grabs a sponge, the bottle of dish soap, and gets to work.

 

Eren stands achingly close, his shoulder brushing Levi’s, his eyes on his hands. Levi focuses on scrubbing and tries to let his mind melt into silence.

 

The issue is that there really isn’t much to clean, so the moment between them of silent contact lasts as long as Levi can stand it and no further. Which is to say: he’s pathetically unable to focus all because Eren’s star-struck, admiring the Levi he’s built up in his head, and standing too close.

 

It’s enough to re-ignite the residual irritation that coexists haphazardly with his affection towards Eren. If he just looked, if he just actually paid attention instead of thrusting his assumptions on Levi, he’d—

 

“Thank you. For coming over.” Eren interrupts his thoughts just as Levi finishes drying his hands. Settling aside the hand towel, Levi bites his lip.

 

“Mikasa couldn’t make it?”

 

Levi’s surprised when Eren’s face bursts into splotches of red. “She had fencing practice today.”

 

Levi snorts. “Mikasa once ditched the ACTs because you had a cold.”

 

Eren can’t meet Levi’s gaze anymore. “I didn’t ask her to do that!”

 

“You asked her not to come take care of you today, though.”

 

“That’s because I don’t need to be taken care of. I don’t need to be coddled.”

 

Levi shrugs. Eren hates her attention sometimes, that’s not unusual, but she doesn’t completely back off like this, ever. Still, he won’t grovel for answers he doesn’t need, so he simply makes to leave the kitchen.

 

Eren grabs his arm. Gently, but firm enough that it makes Levi stop and turn his head towards Eren.

 

“What was the point of making me food?”

 

“To not coddle you, jackass,” Levi replies, tugging his arm out of Eren’s grasp and exiting the room.

 

Hanji turns and takes one look at Levi before standing and grinning at Isobel. “Hope you’re feeling better, both of you!”

 

“Thanks,” Eren replies from behind Levi.

 

Levi allows Isobel to pull him into a hug, then she hugs Hanji. Hanji then hugs Eren, Levi watching from beside Isobel. It’s awkward to watch, but then, something about seeing Hanji embrace people always makes him feel a little out of place. Their exuberance, while great while they’re holding you, is awkward to watch. Strangely personal.

 

That, and Eren’s still sick.

 

Right. Eren. Currently, he’s looking at Levi from over Hanji’s shoulder; he’s barely taller than them, now, and that makes it a little stranger, his eyes and nose peeking out from their shoulder. It’s ridiculous how Eren stares to make a claim, to assert himself and assess the situation, only to back off after a few seconds. He isn’t even staring that hard, but his mother likes to remind him that sometimes even his most innocent glances are intimidating.

 

Hanji pulls away and follows Levi to his truck.

 

~~~

 

Three days later, Levi wakes up with an ear-splitting headache. When he takes his temperature per his mother’s hurried request as she darts into her bedroom, he finds that he has a high fever.

 

He sits at the kitchen table, halfheartedly chewing on a piece of toast. He doesn’t have any tests today, and he hasn’t missed a day this semester. His mother returns to the kitchen, takes one look at him, and tells him he’s staying home, making the decision for him. It’s a welcome relief to nod, close his eyes as she leans down to kiss his forehead and run her fingers through his hair, and return to his room, climbing out of his school-clothes and crawling under the covers.

 

Right as he’s about to fall asleep, Levi’s phone buzzes. He groans as he lifts his head up and reaches for his phone.

 

 **Eren** : can you pick me and Is up this morning? car isn’t working right

 

 **Levi** : I’m not going to school today, sorry.

 

 **Eren** : it’s alright! everything okay??? :O

 

 **Levi** : I’m sick.

 

 **Eren** : !!! ew im sorry, want me to bring your work to you after school?

 

Levi smashes his face into his pillow and groans. He doesn’t even have a ride yet, and he’s ready to march into Levi’s home. Still, it would be helpful. He isn’t prepared to deal with being sick; his book for English is still in his locker.

 

 **Levi** : Do you even have a ride yet?

 

 **Eren** : farlan’s taking us and mikasa’s picking me up

 

 **Levi** : Sure. Check with Farlan about other classes, but I’ll definitely need _Things Fall Apart_.

 

 **Eren** : no problem! feel better!

 

 **Levi** : Thanks.

 

Levi sets his phone down, turns on Do Not Disturb, and wades in and out of sleep for a few hours before giving up and grabbing his phone.

 

He’s got several new messages; he drops his phone on his bed as he sits up fully and reaches for the pain meds his mother must’ve left on his nightstand before she went to work.

 

Burrowing back beneath the covers, he unlocks his phone and answers worried texts from Farlan and Hanji. Other than that, the only person that left new messages is Eren, sending him gifs of cats randomly throughout the morning.

 

He doesn’t know what to say, and scolding Eren for sending him a gif of a kitten yawning seems too harsh, especially when the one after that features a kitten batting at the edge of a phone. Levi’s not sure if Eren knows cats are one of his ultimate weaknesses or if he just guesses it’ll cheer him up, but, regardless, it has Levi grinning at his screen, emotionally incapacitated. His headache seems to bother him a little less the longer he stares at the kittens.

 

In the middle of his staring, Eren sends another gif, then a message of five cat emojis. It’s almost too much for Levi; however, his friendship with Erwin has him more than used to random onslaughts of unnecessary emoji usage. In response, Levi sends one emoji of a cat and, after a minute’s hesitation, an emoji of a green heart. Eren deserves to know that Levi’s enjoying the gifs, even if he should be paying more attention to classes.

 

The warmth in Levi’s chest that began when Eren first texted hasn’t dissipated. If he wasn’t so used to being irritated at himself for reacting to Eren, it would frustrate him more, but, again, Levi finds himself tired. Tired, now, at something relatively concrete. Something he can work with.

 

He’s tired of Eren making him uncomfortably on-edge all the time with his stares and his smiles and his determination. He’s tired of Eren making him feel additional discomfort; at least conversing with people outside of Levi’s comfort zone makes him mildly panicked. At least that spurs him to action.

 

He’s tired of being tired of Eren. If Eren wants to send him kitten gifs, fine. It’s not going to derail his thoughts anymore. He can handle measly conversations with a wild twerp.

 

Laying under his blankets grows more uncomfortably warm the longer he’s awake, so he pushes the covers away and tugs on a clean pair of sweatpants. Plodding into the kitchen, one hand clutching his phone, Levi turns on the light and opens the fridge.

 

Choosing to reheat a leftover batch of soup, Levi dumps the contents of the Tupperware container into a bowl and shoves it in the microwave. It’s just past lunchtime for his classmates, and he finds himself feeling smug as he pulls out his soup and carries it to the table.

 

Until the school day ends, Levi distracts himself by watching Netflix and briefly talking to one of his online friends about the pros and cons of drinking tea with milk versus without. It’s barely enough to keep him from becoming fixated on all of the things that could go wrong with Eren coming to his house, but he’s satisfied when he doesn’t fall into terrifically unrealistic scenarios.

 

When Eren texts that he’s on his way, Levi peels away from the couch and goes to wash his face and brush his teeth. He doesn’t look terrible, though he can understand why his mother was worried this morning, if this is what he looks like now that he’s feeling somewhat better.

 

Too soon, there’s a knock at the front door, and Levi’s restraining himself from sprinting to it. He manages to contain himself, looking through the peephole before opening it. He only sees Eren, and the sight is confirmed when he opens the door.

 

No Mikasa, for the second time in a row. Levi bites his bottom lip as he stops looking behind and around Eren and stares at the books in his arms.

 

“Hey,” Eren says as Levi steps to the side, letting him walk past.

 

“Hey,” Levi echoes.

 

“I’ve your things.”

 

“Thanks. Set them on the table?” Levi closes the door and follows Eren as he wanders towards the kitchen.

 

“Sure.”

 

They stand beside the table awkwardly. Levi doesn’t know what’s going on now, but Eren doesn’t look like he plans on leaving, and Levi’s stomach sinks.

 

“Have you eaten?”

 

Levi blinks. “Yup.”

 

“Oh. I could… Make you tea! If you want.”

 

“I know how to make myself tea.”

 

“That’s not the point.”

 

Levi’s eyebrows rise. “Then what’s the point?”

 

It’s only now that Levi realizes Eren’s hands are clenched at his sides, and Levi coughs. “I just want to take care of you.”

 

 _Why_ is on the tip of Levi’s tongue, but Eren has a habit of answering questions Levi doesn’t want answered, so he keeps it between his teeth. Licks his lips and opens the cabinet with several different boxes of tea. “Pick whichever sounds good to you. I’ll choose the mugs.”

 

Opening another cabinet, Levi grabs a mug with a kitten face on the front and two ears sticking out the sides for Eren, and one with a handle resembling a dolphin for himself. Usually, he drinks from the kitten and his mother from the dolphin-handle, but he doesn’t comment on it. Merely hands Eren the mugs and watches as he fills the kettle with water and turns on the heat.

 

Neither of them speak as the sound of the kettle grows louder and louder, finally fading into familiar sounds of furiously hot water. Levi stands close to Eren, telling himself it’s because he should probably make sure Eren doesn’t mess up, but, really, Eren isn’t that ridiculously incompetent.

 

Eren pours hot water over the chosen tea bags draped nicely inside the mugs, then, rather than carrying both of them to the table, he simply leans against the counter, holding the drink in both his hands, wisps of steam caressing his face.

 

Levi copies him, leaning against the counter, body tilted towards Eren. After removing the tea bag, he lifts the mug and carefully sips the tea. Managing not to burn his tongue, he sets the mug on the counter and crosses his arms over his chest. “Not a bad choice.”

 

Eren grins proudly. It’s similar to Isobel’s smiles, same beaming joy, except hers never make Levi’s knees weak or toes uncomfortable in his socks. Eren shuffles closer, and Levi’s throat tightens.

 

Frowning, Levi lifts his mug to his lips again. “Aren’t you gonna drink yours?”

 

Eren blinks, and his smile fades as he cautiously sips his tea. Something not unlike discomfort makes his lips twitch, and he holds the tea in his mouth a second too long, like he never learned how to swallow properly.

 

“You don’t like it,” Levi guesses as he takes another sip.

 

“Tea’s not really my thing, no,” Eren admits, as close to sheepish as Eren Jaeger can get.

 

“Damn. Coffee person?”

 

“It’s alright.”

 

Levi nods. Eren tries again to drink the tea, and Levi chuckles. “You can just not drink it, you know. Don’t torture yourself.”

  
“I’m not torturing myself; I’m having a good time!”

 

“Good?” Levi finishes his tea and rinses his mug in the sink before leaving it there. Realizes as he turns the faucet that Eren hadn’t driven himself. “Isn’t Mikasa waiting for you?”

 

“Uh. She’s… She dropped me off. Said to call her when I was done.” Eren sets his mug on the counter and fiddles with the teabag’s string.

 

“You never took the tea bag out?” Before thinking about what he’s doing, Levi steps close and takes the mug, fingers brushing Eren’s. Eren’s face turns bright red, and Levi turns away, throwing the tea bag in the trash. “It can get too strong if you do that. You usually pay more attention to how long it steeps before drinking it.” Eren doesn’t protest when Levi takes the mug and, with no small amount of mild regret, pours the contents in the sink and rinses it.  

 

“Oh. Sorry.”

 

“Don’t apologize. Just know tea can taste better than that. If you’d want to drink it again. Sometime.”

 

Eren nods. He’s still leaning against the counter, looking for all the world like he has ample time to chat Levi up and mess up another perfectly good cup of tea. Perhaps he does, the way Mikasa’s behaving, but Levi’s pain medication is wearing off, and he’s not sure what he’s supposed to do, here.

 

“Everyone knows I like you but you,” Eren blurts, staring at Levi’s lips. “Or you’re ignoring it. But I don’t think that’s what it is. So. I like you. Since that wasn’t abundantly clear.”

 

Levi pauses, staring at Eren before turning away, going to the medicine cabinet and getting more pain medication. His heart is beating faster than it ever has in his chest, and it’s taking most of his concentration to control his breathing.

 

He’s not one to dictate other people’s feelings, but it’s difficult to believe Eren has a specific crush when he goes starry-eyed around all of Levi’s friends. “Why are you telling me this,” he asks instead, dry-swallowing two pills.

 

“I’d rather you know I was flirting with you.”

 

Levi can still taste the pills in his mouth and in the back of his throat. It feels like they’re stuck there, even though he knows they aren’t. He doesn’t know what to do with this conversation.  


“Mikasa said you didn’t realize it. Farlan and Isobel wouldn’t talk to me about you, but they said I should go for it. And Hanji doesn’t stop teasing me about going out with you, even though I never said anything to them.”

 

Levi continues staying silent, mostly because there aren’t any words. Eren feeling this way towards him only makes Levi more nervous.

 

“Why are you so quiet?”

 

Levi blinks. “I wasn’t aware,” he explains, “of your feelings.” He wants to doubt their validity, but he doesn’t know how to label his own emotions, much less feel comfortable with someone else’s.

 

Levi watches Eren inhale and exhale slowly. “What do you feel? Does it make you uncomfortable?”

 

“You always make me uncomfortable.” Eren’s face falls, and Levi tsks. “You’re always staring. I noticed that.”

 

“Sorry.”

 

“I didn’t say it was something to apologize for.”

 

“Oh.”

 

It’s beginning to settle in, somewhat, that the same discomfort thrums between them about the other. Or, similar enough, this shared awareness of the one presence brushing against another’s.

Words aren’t really part of Levi’s current skill set, and his heart has finally calmed down somewhat. Privately, he can admit that this pleases him, this attention and attachment. And that Eren really has been staring at Levi’s lips ever since Levi can remember.

 

“Tell me if this is bad,” Levi says as he steps forward, slots himself between Eren’s legs. His arms surround Eren, hands braced on the countertop, Eren’s torso brushing against his arms. Eren’s eyes are wide as he licks his lips, stares down at Levi.

 

“You can touch me if you want,” Levi says as their chests touch and their faces inch closer.

 

Eren doesn’t hesitate, his hands resting on Levi’s hips. He tilts his head down, pressing his forehead against Levi’s. “Can we just stay like this?”

 

Levi nods softly, carefully, and allows himself to close his eyes. It’s nice, feeling Eren’s forehead against his, wrapped around Eren and Eren wrapping around him. One of Eren’s hands rose to toy with Levi’s hair, and it surprises him how much he loves the feeling of Eren’s fingers running through his hair.

 

All too soon, his hand slides away. Levi’s disappointed, but then his fingertips are caressing Levi’s cheeks, and his eyes burst open.

 

Eren’s staring at him, so much happiness in his features, seeping through his skin, into the air, into Levi’s skin. Infectious, and, though Levi doesn’t feel the urge to smile, he does tilt his head up and kiss Eren’s chin, jawline, pressing a light kiss on each of his cheeks and his forehead before kissing his lips.

 

It’s gentle, sweet. Not earth-shattering, but there’s something comforting and warm in Eren’s quiet enthusiasm. Levi’s seen him angry, heard him shout in glee or consternation. He’s never felt Eren’s hands against his skin like this, never thought he’d hear Eren whisper his name against his lips, duck his head for another kiss that, though restrained, has none of the pressure or promise of restraint. It’s present without fanfare, without self-congratulations.

 

Levi smiles against Eren’s lips, nuzzles him lightly, feeling and hearing Eren chuckle.

 

“Are you feeling better?”

 

“Better than I was this morning.”

 

“Good!” Eren grins, pulls away. Levi steps back, and Eren doesn’t stop him, only reaches for his hands and holds them in his. “I hope you feel better.”

 

“Thanks,” Levi replies, refraining from swinging their entwined hands.

 

“I should probably leave and wait for Mikasa to pick me up”

 

Levi nods, slowly pulling away completely from Eren. “Thanks for getting my stuff.”

 

“No problem.” Eren and Levi walk side-by-side until they reach the front door, standing awkwardly. “We’ll talk more about this when you’re feeling better?” When Levi nods, Eren beams. “Cool. Maybe you can show me how to drink tea properly sometime.”

 

“You can’t say you hate tea until you’ve had it properly,” Levi agrees as he opens the door.

 

“Right!” Eren’s still beaming, and it’s almost cute enough to make Levi smile back, but not quite.

 

He settles for patting Eren’s shoulder, letting his hand brush against his arm as he moves down and reaches for his hand. Squeezing it gently once before letting it go, Levi watches as Eren leaves, already reaching for his phone.

 

Levi closes the door. He can barely hear Eren’s voice, just loud enough that Levi knows he’s excited, and he stands there another minute before returning to the kitchen and pouring himself a new cup of tea. The pain medicine kicked in sometime between Eren’s awkward confession and Levi’s awkward answer, and he’s thankful that he doesn’t have to deal with a fully operational headache and fever alongside the new development.

 

His phone buzzes and he sighs, wondering how long he can keep Hanji in the dark before they break down his door and demand the full story. Lord knows he can’t shut _them_ up with a kiss, too, and that’s enough to make him almost wish he hadn’t sort of entered a probably not-open relationship.

 

Almost.


End file.
